Off from La Paz

A quick one. In an internet cafe in La Paz, where a man with a beret, oddly similar to Che Guevara, won't give us more than a few minutes. So, to answer you Marcelo, my faithful friend and post-er, there were no trannies inside the prison, since wives and girlfriends (and probably prostitutes) are allowed in on a regular basis. So the guys get to exercise their libidos a plenty.

Right now, a drunken man is abusing his girlfriend over the phone in the internet cafe, which also doubles as a call centre. He's shouting nasty things into the receiver, in between coughing fits. Now he's saying that he's far too emotional and is aplogising to Che. Ah. The emotional ones are the worst. Che is going into the phone box to disinfect the receiver, after the drunken guy's emptied his tuberculosis-ridden lungs of their plentiful phlegm onto the phone. He's gone. A snipped of a Bolivian borrachero.

Today we went to the witchcraft market, where dried up llama foetuses are sold in many numbers. Also, dried up, blown up frogs are sprinkled with gold dust and sold too. The llama foetuses are to be sacrificed to pachamama (earth mother, the goddess of the Indigenous people) and the frog's for good luck. You're supposed to stuff a fag in its mouth, to appease it and make it bring you lots of lovely luck. We didn't buy any, for fear of arrests at the border.

Now it's good night and good luck. Early tomorrow, we fly to Trinidad, in the Amazonian Basin. Will post from there. Lorra love to all.